


Don't Cream Your Pants

by Myth_Maker



Series: This One-Omega Town [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alpha Billy Hargrove, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Come Marking, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Harringrove, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Steve Harrington, Omega Verse, Scent Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-10-29 17:43:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17812541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myth_Maker/pseuds/Myth_Maker
Summary: Omega!Steve finally gets his heat and Alpha!Billy helps him through it.“I-I don't know,”Dustin swallowed loudly. “He won't get up, and he's holding his stomach. He's mentioned Billy -- is your brother around?”As Dustin talked, Billy could hear Steve crying through the static; big, heaving sobs of, “I can't, I can't.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is for everyone who asked for a continuation of _I Need a Babysitter, Baby._
> 
> Enjoy!

It was a late Friday night when Billy realized -- for the first time in his life -- he was _happy._

He'd been smoking a cigarette, sitting on the couch with Steve tucked up against his side, watching _Antique Wars._ They'd just had another babysitting session and the poor omega was all tuckered out, asleep on Billy's arm.

Between Steve's soft snoring and Max's laughter as she and Sinclair made dinner in the kitchen, he'd felt relaxed. At peace.

It was nice.

Keyword being ‘was.’

Now he hadn't seen Steve for nearly a week, and after tomorrow, they’d be pushing Steve's promise to ‘babysit’ at least once every seven days.

Which meant Billy was looking for him. 

Aggressively.

“I know he works Saturdays,” Billy growled and leaned over the ice cream counter. “If you don't send him out, Scoops Ahoy is gonna need a new cashier.”

“S-Steve's out sick,” the beta stuttered, his sailor cap tumbling to the ground. “Been c-calling out all week.”

But the motherfucker wasn't at his house, either.

And Billy would know -- he'd parked outside of that fucking mansion for two hours with 96.1 blasting through the speakers. 

He'd even narrated his actions in song when he finally just picked the lock and broke in.

“Steee-eeeevie. Come out, come out, or I'm gonna steal your underweaaaaar!”

Still, no sign.

And it was frustrating, because he knew, logically, that Hawkins was a small town. It wasn't LA, where omegas were picked off the street on the daily, never to be heard from again. 

But his alpha brain didn't know that, and it was going _crazy_.

Which was why Billy was cruising around town, driving at a fucking snail's pace with his windows down, desperate to catch a scent, when he heard the Byer kid’s voice crackle in his backseat.

_“Guys? Code red, I repeat, code red. Over.”_

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Billy muttered to himself, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. So that was where Max left her fucking walkie. 

“ _Code red received,_ ” Sinclair answered. “ _Report? Over.”_

Billy just rolled his eyes, the static grating on his nerves. If he knew Steve wouldn't give him hell for it later, he'd chuck it out the window.

“ _Lucas, thank god,_ ” another kid chimed in. Dustin, Steve's favorite. “ _Is Mad Max with you?”_

“ _Yeah--”_

“ _Hey guys, what's going on?”_

Well, at least he knew where Max had snuck off to. Now to find--

“ _Steve is here, and he's really messed up._ ”

Billy jerked the car to a stop, shoving it in park to throw himself into the backseat and scramble for the walkie-talkie.

“ _Is he hurt?_ ” Max demanded.

“ _I-I don't know,_ ” Dustin swallowed loudly. “ _He won't get up, and he's holding his stomach. He's mentioned Billy -- is your brother around?”_

As Dustin talked, Billy could hear Steve crying through the static; big, heaving sobs of, “ _I can't, I can't.”_

Billy snatched up the walkie, smashed the button on the side, and growled: “Dustin, where the **fuck** are you right now?”

For a brief moment the line went dead. Then Max said, “ _Dustin?”_

 _“T-the Byer's house,”_ Dustin stuttered. “ _Um, are you--_ ”

“Already on my way.”

The thing about Steve? He was _naive_. Legitimately didn't know shit, and it was a fucking shame.

Even after he agreed to ‘babysit’ with Billy -- drank his Omega Shake when he was told, let Billy help him open himself up a bit, regularly stroked his own glands -- there was still a fuckton he hadn't been down for. 

Trips to an OBGYN, for example. The closest omega doc was in the same town Billy bought the protein powder at, and he'd offered to drive Steve multiple times. But did the omega go? 

Not even once. 

But Billy would make him this time. Oh, Steve had better believe Billy had no reservations about buckling him in and making the two-hour drive. Hell, if Steve wanted to fight about it, he’d jack off right there and feed Steve his cum, an Omega Shake straight from the source--

“ _Uh, Billy?_ ” Max spoke. “ _You're still on your way, right?”_

Billy snarled at nothing and grabbed the walkie. “No shit,” he growled into it. “You there with him?” 

“ _Yeah. Um, you might want to hurry? He's acting like Sarah.”_

Sarah. As in, Max's California classmate who’d gone apeshit in art class when her heat hit and stuffed paintbrushes down her panties.

“Are you sure?” Billy squeezed the walkie in his grip. “What's he doing?”

“ _Rocking back and forth,_ ” Max paused. “ _But there's, um. Slick? A lot of it._ ”

Billy felt his nostrils flare as his alpha brain desperately tried to catch a whiff. Fat chance -- Billy was still six minutes away.

“...Max,” Billy said slowly. “You can't be in the same room with him, okay? The betas can get close, but--”

_“Y-yeah, I know. Dustin's in there with him. In Castle Byers.”_

And that stung, knowing his omega was taking on his first heat in a flimsy outdoor playpen with mold-infested pillows and leaf covered blankets. Any wandering alpha would be able to smell him; to come and claim.

Billy laid on the gas and didn't let up until he was turning into the Byer's yard.

“Billy!” Max ran up to him as he slammed his car door, but he didn't have time to deal with her. 

“ **You** ,” he pointed at the Sinclair kid. “Take me to Steve.”

Billy had only been out there once before, and as Sinclair walked them through weeds and in between bushes, he found himself glad he’d asked for a guide. 

And why he waited until Castle Byers was in sight before threatening Sinclair. 

“About Steve,” he looked the kid in the eye. “If any of you spreads this around town--”

“Don’t worry,” Sinclair shook his head, putting another step between him and Billy. “Max already explained. And we,” he shrugged. “We like Steve.” 

Billy grunted and pushed ahead. “You better.” 

Sinclair didn’t take him the whole way, choosing instead to stop at a scarred oak a few steps off. Billy barely paid him any mind, especially when the smell of _slick fertile sweet_ clogged his nose. 

He bent, pushing aside the sun-bleached blanket pretending to be a door, and promptly froze in the entryway. 

Steve was whimpering out harsh breaths, huddled in the corner, and Dustin was standing over him. 

Steve’s jeans were in the middle of the floor.

Billy didn’t think. He raced forward, and Dustin just barely stumbled out of the way as he threw himself where the kid had just been standing.

“ **Back. Off.** ” Billy growled, drawing out the rumble in his chest. 

Dustin blinked rapidly, and Billy didn’t miss the way his chubby hand grasped for the baseball bat beside him. Such a thing wouldn’t hurt Billy, but Steve…

Steve was vulnerable. Billy bent his knees and raised his fists. 

“D-don’t,” Steve gasped out. “My kids, you _can’t_ \--”

He tried to stand, but his knees banged together and he shrank back into the corner. Panic shot through Billy as he watched Steve just throw up a hand instead and claw at one of the walls of blankets to haul himself up. 

“Whoa, hey, **stop,** ” Billy growled, dropping down to catch Steve before he pitched forward. He smelled divine, and Billy couldn’t resist a quick kiss to his sweaty forehead. 

He had no idea how long Steve had been in this state. His t-shirt was a sweaty mess, clinging to his skin and framing his hard nipples, and his boxers were a lost cause of slick-soaked fabric bunched up around his crotch. 

There was no question. Steve was in heat. 

“Shhh,” Billy soothed, running a hand through Steve’s bangs as he drew him close. “It’s okay, you’re going to be okay.” Steve whimpered and sought out Billy’s neck, his whole body shaking as he breathed deep. 

“Just like that, honey,” Billy mumbled, half his attention on Dustin as the kid slipped out the door. “Just like that.” 

It took time to maneuver Steve properly. Normally, Billy could just snap an alpha command at any heat-muddled omega to “present,” and they'd jump into the perfect position for an alpha to saddle up behind them and pop a knot.

But not Steve. The omega had never followed his instincts easily -- or at all -- and Billy knew he'd have to assist. 

“What do you think?” he asked sweetly, sucking down a cigarette as he patiently sat back on his haunches, looking at the way Steve had his knees bent and arms tucked. Billy knew the exact position Steve was trying to get into, but it was essential that Steve actually be the one to find it. 

Steve squirmed and shook his head sadly, his wet eyelashes clumped together. “No,” he admitted pitifully. “Not this either.”

“Hey, hey,” Billy pressed a warm hand to the back of Steve’s neck. “It’s okay. You’ll find it, alright? I’ll help you.”

“It hurts,” Steve sniffled. 

“I know, baby, I know.” Billy slipped his hand down to press against Steve’s stomach, rubbing slow circles into the skin. He’d seen enough omegas through a heat to know most of the pain stemmed from cramps, especially during an omega’s first heat. “Would it help if you stretched out more, or huddled in on yourself, hmm?” Billy nuzzled him. “What do you think, what sounds better?”

Steve gave a hopeless little whine and kicked out his legs. 

“Good, good,” Billy kissed his shoulder. “What about your arms, huh? Your elbows don’t hurt?”

“They do,” Steve whined.

“Okay, baby. Why don’t you try laying them down, huh? Here -- use this pillow. Yeah, just like that.” 

Steve was shaking when he finally locked into the right pose, ass up and chest flat, and looked at Billy with a blush. “I-I like this one.” 

“Good omega,” Billy smiled. “Knew you could do it.” 

Billy praised him a bit more, giving him time to adjust, and finally settled a hand on Steve’s lower back. He dipped his fingers below the waistband.

“What now?” he hummed. “What would feel nice now?”

Steve keened high in his throat and wiggled his ass. “T-touch me? Like in your room?”

“Of course, Stevie,” Billy assured him with a gentle bump of their foreheads, and slowly dragged the ruined underwear down Steve's thighs. “Want me to help you open up?” Steve bit his lip and nodded, and Billy pressed his middle finger where the slick was heaviest. 

He ground his teeth as he sank in, right up to the knuckle. Steve choked on a moan, and Billy thought -- not for the first time -- that Steve was a god damn treasure to be inside. 

Most omegas were buttery soft and warm and wet, but Billy had never felt anything so tight, with just the slightest pull that sucked his fingers in deeper and spasmed so good, like it was begging for a knot to squeeze. 

Even without proper knowledge or easy instincts, Stevie was a walking wet dream.

Billy added a second finger.

“Good omega,” Billy shuddered, holding back a growl as he wiggled his fingers inside that velvet heat. Steve mewled, and Billy rubbed against the outer rim with his thumb. 

Billy could've fingered Stevie for hours -- wanted to -- but his alpha brain wouldn't ever let him. It was too concerned with the distress the omega was in, and nothing got Billy soft like the reminder that Steve was only this desperate because he'd been neglected for eight years. 

“Billy,” Steve sighed, low and long, as Billy scissored him open and brushed a finger against his sweet spot. It was enlarged -- a side effect of the heat -- and a gush of slick ran down Billy's arm as he added pressure.

“Good omega,” Billy soothed, reaching up a free hand to touch Steve's neck. “Letting me know when I found it. Gotta give it attention, yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” Stevie whimpered as Billy found his scent glands. “Yeah--”

And Steve came, predictably and quickly, as Billy stretched over his back and pressed him down in all the right places. 

Slick flowed across his thighs and his little omega dick wilted after spending across his stomach, and Billy eased off before Steve noticed the bulge in his own pants.

“Good job, so good,” Billy panted behind him, taking a moment to pull the drenched underwear back up over Steve's ass. It wouldn't stop the flow, but it was better than nothing.

Wiping his soaked hand on his pants, Billy forced himself to stand. Steve was laying on his side now, curling up with that blissed out look on his face. 

“Okay, sweetheart,” Billy scrubbed a dry hand over his face. “We've gotta go, okay?”

“Nnh,” Steve rubbed against a faded pillow, closing his eyes.

“I know, I know,” Billy cooed, adjusting his pants before bending down to scoop Steve into his arms. 

He'd planned to carry Steve bridal style, but once he was close enough, Stevie's little nose started twitching and Billy had to lean against a tree as Steve flailed in his arms. The omega finally settled with his face tucked under Billy's jaw and his legs hooked over his alpha's hips.

Making them crotch to crotch. 

“Uh,” Billy froze, his dick straining in his pants against Steve's warmth. There was no way he could hide it if he started walking. 

“S'okay,” Steve sighed dreamily. “Feels good.”

Billy's dick twitched, and Steve wiggled against him.

He was going to be the fucking death of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think Steve took Billy to Castle Byers exactly once to show off how creative his kids are, and Billy took one look around before saying, "Wow, these kids are fucking poor, huh?" #RIP


	2. Chapter 2

Billy carried Steve through the woods in silence. Sinclair and Dustin hadn't been stupid enough to stick around, and with Steve so restless in his arms, he hoped they'd be smart enough to stay away completely.

No such luck. 

Billy had barely rounded the house and taken two steps toward from his car when the Byer's front door banged open and all of Steve's little shits scurried out onto the porch.

“Hey!” Dustin yelled.

Billy rolled his eyes and kept walking, pressing Steve's face in tighter when the omega began to fuss. 

“Billy!” Max demanded, and he sighed. He couldn't have her following them.

“I'm taking him home,” Billy yelled over his shoulder. “Max, stay at the Byer's house for a few days, okay?” Last thing he needed was Steve’s heat triggering her first rut. 

“You hear me?” Billy called, leaning against his car to yank open the passenger-side door and place Steve inside. “Stay with Joyce, _not Sinclair_.” 

“Fine!” Max snapped. 

“Watch the tone,” Billy warned, careful to unpluck the weak fingers Steve was trying to latch on with before buckling him in and pulling back. He cut Steve off mid-whimper as he shut the door in his face and hastily moved toward the driver's side.

“ _Wait!”_ Dustin cried, angry and scared as he hopped down the steps and pointed that fucking baseball bat at Billy like a sword. “Y-you can't just take him! Right, guys...?”

But the other kids weren't moving, and Billy's alpha was both delighted and disgusted with how Steve's favorite kit was the only one to foolishly defend him.

“I like you, kid,” Billy gave him a smile with too many teeth. “But Stevie needs some adult time, okay? Away from _little eyes_.” He palmed the obvious bulge in his own pants. “Ya dig?”

Dustin frowned, baseball bat falling a little in his grip, and Billy looked past him to nod at Max. 

“I've got your fucking radio,” he opened the car door. “I'll call with the all clear when it's done.”

“When _what's_ done?” Dustin looked between Max and Billy, face pinched. “What's going on? What's wrong with Steve?!”

Billy just shook his head and slid into his car.

And immediately had hot omega hands all over him. 

“Jesus, Stevie,” he hissed, catching Steve's wrists as he pulled at Billy’s shirt.

“Thought you were leaving me,” Steve slurred, tongue thick. 

“I didn't even leave your sight--”

But Steve didn't care; just whined and burrowed his head into Billy's side, twisting and panting as he squirmed under his seatbelt. 

Well, now Billy knew why some alphas chose to install seat harnesses. 

“Yeah, get comfortable,” Billy muttered, slinging an arm over Steve to get him settled before cranking his car into reverse one-handed. He made a point to not look at the kids as he pulled away. 

Billy's place was only an eight minute drive, and it took him three to realize Steve wasn't just nuzzling against him: he was sucking on his shirt, mouthing at the fabric just under his armpit with licks and nibbles.

Billy paused; blinked. Then he sighed. At best, Steve's omega brain was desperate to inhale an alpha scent. At worst, Billy would have to change shirts.

A no brainer, if it kept Steve distracted.

“Okay, Stevie,” Billy rubbed the omega's shoulder as the townhome finally loomed in sight. He cranked the wheel and put it in park, eyeing the street.

The door to his townhouse was only five feet away, but unlike the Byer's, he actually had neighbors.

Beta neighbors, who'd probably never seen a heat-strung omega before. 

Billy sighed to himself, fingers twitching for a cigarette. Steve was still mouthing at his shirt, and in the short drive the smell of his slick had perfumed up, making the air thick with his scent.

Billy tried not to be obvious as he breathed it in. It was just so different from the barely-there lavender Steve usually put out.

“So,” he said calmly, eyes scanning the surrounding homes. “Small town like this? I'm guessing lots of folks staying in on a Saturday night.”

“Mmm,” Steve hummed.

“That means a lotta faces in windows staring at us if you make a scene.”

“Hnn,” Steve huffed, finally tipping his head back. Billy swallowed at his swollen lips. “Stop talkin’ and touch me,” Steve whined. 

“Fuck,” Billy scowled and ran a soothing hand through Steve's sweaty hair. The omega closed his eyes with a sigh and pushed into it earnestly. “Guess that answers that question.”

Billy let himself indulge and soothe his own alpha hindbrain with soft touches to the omega. Steve certainly didn't seem to mind, leaning this way and that as Billy ran his blunt fingernails across his scalp and down his jaw.

“Stubble?” Billy blurted out loud, frowning as he felt the fuzzy beginnings of hair blooming along Steve's jawline. He'd never known Steve to grow it out before, especially now that he had to stick to Scoops Ahoy's grooming guidelines, but Billy had also been told by several male omegas that it was a bitch and a half to even try. They just didn't have the testosterone to make anything more than a patchy neck-beard.

Most used face creams and ointments to dissolve the annoying peach fuzz that did come in, but now that Billy thought about it, Steve didn't have access to any of those and probably just shaved every few days.

So how many days had he been in heat?

“Steve? Baby,” Billy cupped his jaw and made Steve look up at him. “How long have you been like this?”

Steve blinked slowly, staring at him hazily through half-lidded eyes, and Billy almost gave it up as a lost cause when the words finally seemed to sink in and Steve looked away sullenly.

Billy tightened his grip. “ **Steve**.”

“F-feeling kind of, um,” Steve hugged his arms around his stomach. “Weird.” He looked at the floor. “Thought I need…needed...”

Billy’s heart sank. Of course Steve wouldn't have understood what was going on; when Billy had first asked him about heats, Stevie had laughed in his face about how they didn't exist. And Billy, scared to push him too far too fast, had let him keep thinking it.

So sure, if Steve's omega brain went a little haywire, Billy could imagine the omega making the decision to do more of the one thing he'd been doing to cope for years.

“That's why you were with the kids.” Billy wanted to punch something. “Why you didn’t call me.”

“They were so--” Steve took a shaky breath, and Billy could already see the tears forming. “-- _excited._ For a group sleepover. I promised…” he shook his head as fat tears rolled down his cheeks. 

Billy swept a tear from the corner of Steve's eye with his thumb. “Hey,” he unbuckled Steve and hauled him into his lap. “You think they aren't still gonna have that sleepover? C'mon, those kids are gonna play Dorks n’ Dragons till three in the morning.”

“Mhm,” Steve squirmed until he could turn his face into Billy's neck and inhale. “Think so?”

“Know so,” Billy kissed the top of his head. “Now come on, let's get you inside.”

It was surprisingly easy to get Steve out of the car and into the house. Billy just picked him up and held him on his hip, keeping his neck tipped back so Steve had easy access while he jogged them to the door. 

“Good boy,” Billy locked it behind them. “I think you deserve a reward.”

Luckily, he’d had the foresight to mix up some Omega Shakes before going out on the hunt for Steve earlier. He just didn't know if he'd have enough of the protein powder to last the typical 3-5 day heat cycle. Some omegas ended early, if an alpha could satisfy them.

“You want it hot or cold?” Billy rubbed Steve's back as he pulled one of the containers out of the fridge. “Stevie?” He opened the lid.

Steve immediately sat up from where he'd been hanging as dead weight against Billy, eyes wide as he zeroed in on the familiar mixture. Billy laughed when he squirmed and made grabby hands for it.

“Okay, okay, I hear you,” he chuckled. “Let me get it in a glass first.”

Steve barely even let him do that, and practically inhaled the drink while Billy walked them to the stairs. He grinned fondly when Steve bumped the plastic cup against him for the third time, trying to duck back into Billy's neck with it.

“One thing at a time, baby,” Billy cooed. “Drink your shake.”

Steve kept it tipped to his mouth as Billy walked them into the bathroom and set him on the toilet, quickly turning to the bath to flick on the faucet. As the tub filled, Steve finished his drink and leaned back, licking his lips.

“Good boy,” Billy praised, effortlessly plucking the empty cup out of his hands to set it on the counter.

He squatted in front of Steve and rested calm hands on either side of Steve's hips, looking up at him. The omega dropped his chin to his chest and stared back.

“Stevie,” he said gently, “We're going to get you into some warm clothes, okay? A big soft sweater, just how you like ‘em.” Billy may have bought a few. Pants, too, but those would be pointless while Steve was producing such a steady flow. “But you have to get clean first.” Billy made a pointed look at the tub.

It took Steve a moment to understand. “A bath?” he rasped. 

Billy nodded, and mentally made a note to get more liquid into Steve. “A bath,” he said lightly. “And I need you to let me help you.”

Steve licked his lips, throat bobbing. “Okay,” he swallowed thickly, closing his eyes.

Billy's fingers dug into his hips. “Okay.”

Just like in the car, Steve was surprisingly easy to manhandle. He didn't whine when Billy pulled down his soaked underwear, and even raised his arms to help remove the shirt.

“Here we go,” Billy soothed, helping Steve step over the side and sink into the steaming water. Steve shivered and tried to huddle under as best he could, but it stopped at his shoulders. 

“Lean back, baby,” Billy coaxed him. Soon Steve was laying on his back, completely submerged, save for his face. “Just like that.” 

Billy hushed and petted away every whimper Steve made as he rubbed him down with a washcloth. He didn't comment when the water took on a sheen while he washed away the layers of slick and sweat that'd been stuck to the omega. 

Steve’s red face turned impossibly darker when Billy slipped the cloth between his thighs. It wasn't anything he hadn't seen before, but Billy soothed him all the same.

“It's okay, you're okay,” Billy dipped his arm underwater to ground Steve with a grip on his shoulder. “I gotta, baby. Just real quick.”

But Steve wasn't having it. He flipped onto his stomach, grabbing for Billy's arm and burying his face into the bend of Billy's elbow. 

Billy swallowed, eyes stuck on the round ass suddenly curved above the surface. Water lapped at the pale skin, and Billy clenched his jaw against the deep ache in his teeth. 

“...You good like that, Stevie?” When the omega said nothing, Billy rolled his shoulders and let his wet arm curl around Steve's head to brush back brown hair. “Okay,” Billy decided.

Billy made quick work of it, keeping his actions quick and effective as he dipped into the omega's crack. He caught a flash of a pink hole but didn't pause, continuing over the balls and dick. Steve whimpered miserably the whole time. 

“Okay, Stevie,” Billy tossed the cloth to the sink and reached for a towel. “All done. C'mere.”

Steve rose reluctantly, whining as he left the warm waters. Billy helped him up and immediately enveloped him in the oversized towel. 

“Good omega,” Billy muttered. “So good.”

Steve just shuffled closer to seek out Billy's scent glands, and that's when Billy heard it. 

A chirp.

Billy didn't dare breathe. He held his breath, alpha-desperate not to make a sound as he waited, straining to hear it again; to be sure.

And then Steve did it: a quick, questioning pitch of noise in the back of his throat. The omegan call only ever made to a trusted alpha. Usually their _mated_ alpha.

A primitive whine for _guidance help please trust you_.

Billy yanked Steve closer, knocking them chest-to-chest as his alpha brain kicked up a rough purr in response. Steve's body trembled as it set him off and he trilled a chorus of chirps back to Billy.

“ **Good omega** ,” Billy couldn't help but growl. It came out more alpha command than anything, and Steve melted against him. “ **Perfect**.”

Steve was boneless, after that. Billy patted him down and produced a feather-soft blue fleece, slipping it over Steve's shoulders with firm touches. Underwear was a little more complicated, especially when Billy produced a white dildo with a flared base.

“Honey, baby,” Billy pressed their foreheads together as Steve whined. The omega had been largely non-verbal since he'd been given his shake, and now he wasn't even making the effort to open his mouth when he made noise. 

“It's not forever,” Billy promised. “I'm right here if you want fingers or my neck, but Stevie, you're gonna burn out if you don't take a breather. Aren't you hungry?”

When Steve neither confirmed nor denied, Billy couldn't help but frown. “Baby,” he wound a strong arm around Steve's waist. “Don't you trust me?’

He waited for Steve to give a small, miserable chirp before he stretched his other arm into place. 

“Deep breath,” Billy warned, and then he was pushing it in.

Steve _keened_ , body sucking the toy up eagerly even while he trembled uncontrollably in Billy's lap, chirping frantically as he burrowed his head down against the alpha's lower stomach and inadvertently raised his ass higher. 

Billy was relentless; had to be, and didn't stop working the toy until the base finally caught. The bulk would trick Steve’s heat into thinking he was getting a knot, and hopefully ease some of the painful cramps that had been gearing up for it. 

Billy moved to pat Steve on the head, a ‘good omega’ on the tip of his tongue, when he realized Steve's face was pressing heavily against the half-knot he'd popped among the litany of chirps. 

“ **No** ,” Billy accidentally growled, and shoved him away. But Steve just kept chirping pitifully, body locked from where he was presenting against the floor with a false knot stopping him up.

Billy stared at him for only a moment before making up his mind. 

“ **Stay** ,” he grunted, putting as much alpha command into his voice as he could muster. Steve's chirps stuttered into a whine and he pressed his cheek harder against the tile. 

Panting, Billy pushed himself to his feet. He'd never make it to the first floor bathroom like this. He glanced between the toilet and Steve. 

The omega didn't even lift his head as he stepped over him, yanking down his pants to free his cock. Sure enough, the loose skin around his base was pulsing, just a good tug and a nice stroke away from knotting. 

“Fuck,” Billy hissed, dick aimed at the toilet but eyes locked on Steve. He was back to chirping again, hips swinging, and Billy felt a little thrill at those blown omega eyes peeking up at him.

He changed his mind at the last minute.

Throwing a leg behind Steve, Billy shoved a hand into the omega's hair and pushed his head forward, making sure to expose that pretty neck. Between rubbing the weeping head of his cock at the base of Steve's nape and squeezing his knot, Billy came.

Cum exploded across Steve's neck and shoulders, spurting out of Billy's dick each time it throbbed in his hand. The little omega gave a wail at the sensation, and Billy released Steve's hair to smack his ass, nailing the tip of the dildo hard with his palm and driving it into him.

The thick scent of the flowery heat picked up, and Steve was cuming, back arched painfully as he finally opened that mouth in a scream.

Billy was still painting Steve's shoulders with cum when the omega passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dustin, you fucking hero.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve had been asleep in Billy's lap for the last six hours. When he finally stirred, the alpha couldn't help the way he flexed an arm around the omega's middle, a silent bid to _stay._

But Steve wasn't going anywhere fast, and he blinked his brown eyes open blearily as he looked down and took stock of himself.

Billy was quick to stub out his cigarette and free up both hands when Steve suddenly whined, wiggling in the blanket he'd been tucked into.

“Easy, baby,” Billy muttered, bringing Steve in tight to hug against his chest. “You've been out for a while. How you feeling?”

“Nnnh,” Steve rubbed his forehead on Billy’s collarbone. “Feel sore.” 

Billy shook him with a chuckle. “I bet,” he rubbed the hand he had on Steve's hip to warm him.

Steve tried rolling his shoulders. “Fuck, my neck hurts.” He started wiggling again, elbows pushing out from under the blanket.

“Stop,” Billy squeezed him still. “Touching will just aggravate it. You've, uh,” Billy swallowed hard. “You've got some bruising.”

He wasn't proud of the fact that he’d squatted over Steve's unconscious form in the bathroom, methodically rubbing his cooling semen into the omega's scent glands long after he had passed out. It wasn't until he'd felt satisfied, alpha purr rumbling in his chest, that he'd finally snapped out of it and hauled Steve away.

He hadn't meant to bruise him. Only felt worse and worse about it when Steve had repeatedly fussed at them in his sleep.

“You,” Billy blinked, trying to decide the best way to say it. “You don't smell like…” _Heat_. “Like, you did. Earlier.”

Steve hummed and very gingerly tipped his head up to Billy's throat, minding his own neck. “Neither do you,” he agreed.

And Billy had wondered about that; knew, sometimes, that an alpha could release pheromones in kind. But he’d never done it himself, before.

“Good.” Billy grunted, sliding his arms under Steve before standing up. Steve yelped and scrambled to hold onto Billy through the blanket.

“Good?” Steve repeated breathlessly, nervously watching the floor sweep by as Billy carried him toward the kitchen. “That mean it's over, then? Fixed?”

Billy paused as he reached the fridge. “It's not something to fix,” he growled. “ _You’re_ not something to fix, Steve.”

And fuck, if that didn't seem to floor the little omega. 

“R-really?” he asked hesitantly, licking his lips. Billy felt him relax a fraction in his hold. “So that was. I mean. It's normal?”

Billy clenched his jaw and bought himself a moment to collect his thoughts as he pulled an Omega Shake out of the fridge.

Honestly, a small part of himself had been trying to avoid this conversation, but hell, if he didn't tell Steve then no one else would. 

“Normally,” Billy said slowly, shaking the container with one arm while he balanced Steve in the other. “Like, statistically, omega's experience _that_ in the same year they come out as omega.” 

Steve froze in his arms, tense all over again. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Billy grunted, setting up a glass to pour the milky mixture into. “And then they have to deal with it about four times a year, after.” He shrugged. “Depends on the person.”

“So,” Steve breathed. “I'm not normal.”

Billy snorted. “You presented at an incredibly early age and struggled alone for eight years in a one-omega town. I don't think anything about your situation is normal.”

He had more to say -- people to blame and narrow minds to bash -- but Steve's face was screwing up as his eyes clouded over with tears. Billy sighed.

“Here, Stevie,” he shifted so Steve's head was propped up on his shoulder. “You need to eat something.”

Steve allowed Billy to feed him without protest; just settled under his blanket with closed eyes as he drank it down. Billy's alpha brain lit up like July at the sight, sending little sparks to the tips of his toes at having the omega so docile in his arms.

As Steve's throat bobbed with each swallow, Billy forced himself to keep talking.

“What you just had was a heat. Your first one, I guess.” 

Steve furrowed his brow but didn't open his eyes. 

“I know, I know -- you thought they were fake. And I'm real sorry for that, Stevie,” he rubbed his chin over the top of Steve's brown hair. It was soft, without all the hairspray. “I figured, you hadn't gotten one in eight years, why spook you with the idea of one now? And then you _disappeared_ on me, baby. Had me going out of my mind.”

Steve wrinkled his nose and pulled away, spilling a little of the drink on his neck before Billy could pull it back.

“I didn't disappear,” he bitched, opening his eyes into little angry slits. Billy just watched, face impassive. 

Steve had never refused his drink before. 

“I was-- I don't know,” he flopped uselessly in a full-body shrug. “I felt sick, you know? Sluggish and so fucking tired, and then I got _that feeling_ , the one that makes me feel wrong and useless and bad--”

“When?”

Steve widened his eyes and blinked. “Huh?”

“When did it start, Steve?” It wasn't lost on Billy that Steve had managed to avoid that particular question since he'd picked him up at the Byer's. “What day?”

“Um,” Steve looked off, like he was thinking. “Wednesday…? No, no -- it was Tuesday. That's when the cramps started, and I called out of work.”

“Tuesday.” Billy narrowed his eyes. “It's Sunday, Steve.”

“Yeah?” Steve frowned, just barely meeting the alpha's glare. 

No wonder his heat was over. A cycle only lasted three to five days, and Sunday made six.

“Billy?”

Steve was squirming again -- restless -- and it took Billy a second to realize why. 

He was shaking; alpha-angry. But having Steve slip out of his grasp wouldn't do anything to quell that rage.

“ **Drink** ,” Billy snapped, alpha command undeniable as he shoved the drink back under Steve's nose. The omega immediately opened his mouth and began to swallow.

Billy watched him guzzle it down, alpha taking some pleasure in the knowledge that he had _provided_ ; had driven hours to secure the protein powder, had given his own seed to stir the pot, and even now, he fed the omega with his own hand.

It should have helped. 

But Billy's alpha was still thrashing, out for blood, cause it just _wasn't possible._ An omega had to acknowledge their heat and either go it alone or find an alpha, _always_. To ignore it would allow it to fester; bring on fever and hallucinations.

And there weren't any other alphas, not for miles, but it _didn't add up_ and he couldn't not see it, in his mind's eye: Steve ass up for another man's knot, chirping away with every thrust.

Steve still hadn't even taken _his,_ yet. Could've, maybe, if they'd had more time. If Steve hadn't decided to ride out his heat planning a fucking sleepover rather than come straight to his alpha.

The whole situation set Billy's teeth on edge. Made him feel cheated. And fuck, didn't that sound just like his old man?

“Billy,” Steve pushed against his shoulder. “Billy, I-I drank it.”

Billy blinked. The cup was empty, but he still had it pressed up against Steve's lips, making the omega drool.

Billy clicked his tongue, pulling it away to toss in the sink. Steve flinched at the sound of plastic jumping against metal. 

Steve didn't say anything until Billy had stomped them back into the living room and sat heavily on the couch, pinning Steve to his lap.

“Is it bad?” he asked quietly, verging on a whimper.

And even though Billy was mad, that shit did things to his heart. 

“What, baby?” he sighed, running fingers through Steve's hair.

“The heat,” Steve trembled. “Did it last too long…? Or ended too fast?” Steve burrowed deeper into his blanket, and -- by extension -- into Billy. “Am I defective?”

For once, Steve wasn't tearing up. He was curled tight into a ball, stone-faced, like he was finally admitting something he'd long since figured out.

It was almost worse than the crying.

“Stevie,” Billy breathed, gathering the omega off his lap to tuck his face into Steve's stomach and cradle him in his arms. “You're _perfect.”_

Steve gave an empty laugh. “Thanks.”

“I mean it,” Billy nuzzled Steve. His alpha brain cooed to have the omega vulnerable like this, belly-up. 

“Yeah? Then why didn't you --” Steve's voice broke -- “f-fuck me?”

Billy froze. 

“That's the whole point of a heat,” Steve spat bitterly, panting as he worked himself up. “Right?”

Very slowly, Billy raised his head. Steve's eyes were getting red, a tell-tale sign of an oncoming storm.

“Steve.” Billy's mouth was dry. “Baby, you don't _do that_ to someone in heat.”

Don't pretend consent without talking it through with a clear head, first. Don't pump someone full when they aren't even on the pill.

“Do what?” Steve forced a harsh laugh. “Have sex? What, you think I've never taken dick before?”

Billy couldn't stop himself. He had Steve flat on his back, hair ripped aside to bare his throat and hips trapped underneath his in the next heartbeat. Steve's big brown eyes finally leaked tears as Billy towered over him.

“ **I'm not some beta bitch** ,” Billy seethed, shaking the hand tangled in Steve's hair. “ **I'm an alpha, with a knot that'll split you right open**.”

Steve whimpered; tried to turn his face away. Billy snarled and Steve locked up, omega brain responding to alpha command, and chirped.

Billy blinked. Alpha growled. 

“I,” Steve whispered, hiccuping on chirps between every other breath. “I don’t know what t-to do, don't know what I did wrong, alpha.”

And if that wasn't the magic word. 

Billy pulled back, just a little, and dropped his head to Steve's neck. Nosed at his bruised scent glands and took dark satisfaction where he'd managed to mark the omega.

“ **It's okay** ,” Billy rumbled, pressing his chest against Steve so he could feel. “ **Such a good omega. Did nothing wrong.** ”

Steve finally relaxed. Billy just settled on top of him and brushed away the last of his tears, muttering praise into his neck. 

It didn't smell like lavender, anymore -- not even Steve's barely-there scent. Now he just smelled like Billy.

Like home.

It took a while to properly soothe Steve, and even longer for Billy's alpha hindbrain to fuck off. Stevie was good the whole time, though; stayed quiet and relaxed while his alpha got control of himself.

Billy waited until he knew he wouldn't growl again to speak. 

“I wanted to,” he admitted, lips moving against Steve's skin as he talked. “Wanted to fuck you. Always want to.”

Steve shivered underneath him. “Even when we're, um.” _Babysitting?_

Billy huffed a humorless laugh. “Especially then. S'why I bought the toy. Got it a few months back in case you were ready for more.”

“So, you were expecting to. This whole time.”

“No,” Billy snorted, and Steve had the audacity to look offended. “Look, this wasn't supposed to be…” he motioned between himself and Steve, “...this. I was supposed to give you the alpha sex talk, Max was supposed to get off my ass about the ‘poor omega babysitter,’ and--”

“Wait, what?” Steve bolted upright, letting the blanket slip off his shoulders only to yank it right back up. “What the fuck, Hargrove? I'm naked?!”

“Uh-uh,” Billy tsked. “It's ‘Alpha’ or ‘Billy,’ Stevie.” 

“ _Billy,”_ Steve hissed through clenched teeth. “Where the fuck are my clothes?”

“Well,” Billy sighed, winding his arms around Steve's back. “Now that I'm being honest, I guess I won't say I tossed ‘em, and that they're actually sitting at the bottom of my closet.”

_“What?”_

Billy shrugged, and nipped Steve playfully through the blanket. He felt better, now. Had arms full of omega who'd thrown a bitch fit over not getting his knot. Which, okay, had happened before.

But this was _Steve._

“Wait, backup. _Max_ put you up to this?”

Billy closed his eyes and hummed. “She's met her fair share of omegas. Hell, her mom is one. Watched the old hag's Instincts draw her to the most macho guy in the room after the divorce, and it just so happened to be my Beta old man.”

“Beta?” Steve frowned, eyebrows drawn tight. 

“Like a little dog posturing in a room full of wolves,” Billy shook his head, nuzzling Steve. “He was always the most loud 'cause he had the most to prove. Tragic ending for Max's MILF. Sends money to us, though.”

“So,” Steve swallowed. “The dad was the one who… I mean, when Max presented…”

“Hey,” Billy sat up, cupping Steve's face. “None of that. Remember? She's happy in Hawkins now, running with your little ragtag pack.”

Steve laughed into his hands, closing his eyes, and Billy brushed away the few tears that'd started to gather. 

“I'm serious, Steve,” he bumped their foreheads together. “I'll be your alpha, if you'll let me.”

Steve's eyelashes fluttered open, and he peeked out from under them with a blush.

“Um,” he said shyly, biting his lip. “What does that mean, exactly?”

Billy rolled his eyes and kissed Steve's nose. 

Guess they'd be having that sex talk, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third story to come soon! Check my [AO3 Profile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myth_Maker/profile) for a timeline of scheduled fics.


End file.
